


Public Displays of Affection

by menel



Series: 30 Days OTP Challenge [6]
Category: X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Jealousy, M/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-06
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-02-28 08:56:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2726381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/menel/pseuds/menel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Day 6 of the 30 Days OTP Challenge<br/>Prompt: Wearing each other's clothes </p><p><i>Exchange:</i> verb [with obj.] give something and receive something of the same kind in return</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I meant to archive this story so much sooner but life got in the way. Part I was originally posted on Tumblr on June 18, 2014. 
> 
> The fic is also a movie and comic verse hybrid.

Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters was in a state of flux. Autumn marked the start of the new school year and with it came students, both new and old, as well as other familiar faces. At least, that’s what Logan was told since he didn’t recognize any of the former teachers-slash-X-Men that walked through the front door. They all knew Summers though, and they were all glad to see him – alive, well and with his memory fully recovered. There was Sean Cassidy aka Banshee, straight in from Scotland with Moira MacTaggert. There was Henry “Hank” McCoy aka Beast, an original member of the X-Men. There was Betsy Braddock aka Psylocke, another stunningly gorgeous telepath (Logan was beginning to think that all female telepaths were stunningly gorgeous if he counted the X-Men’s recent run-in with Emma Frost a few weeks ago). There was Alex Summers aka Havok (Logan hadn’t even been aware that Scott had a brother), who shared the family power and Lorna Dane aka Polaris. And there was Warren Worthington III, aka Angel, another original member of the team.

“They’re not all staying,” Scott had said to him. “Well, Hank is,” he’d amended. “He’ll be teaching one of the science classes, biology, if I remember correctly. Betsy will be here for a while as well. Alex and Lorna are on vacation. Sean and Moira are just stopping by on their way back to Muir Island.” 

“This happen often?” Logan asked as they walked down the quiet hallway. Classes were already underway. At Scott’s inquiring look, he clarified, “Former team members dropping by all at once?” 

“Maybe not all at once,” Scott answered. “But yes, people drop by. The X-Men are a family, Logan. The type of family that you _want_ to visit.” He paused. “You’re a part of that family now too.” 

Logan didn’t – _couldn’t_ – say anything to that, and somehow he knew that Summers wasn’t expecting him to either. 

“I have an administrator’s meeting,” Scott said, stopping outside one of the conference room doors. “I’ll see you later?”

Logan nodded and Scott gave him a faint smile before opening the door. Logan thought Summers still didn’t smile enough, but when he did, it made Logan feel lighter somehow and that was a bad sign. Bad because it meant something and Logan wasn’t brave enough to try and figure out what. 

What he did know was that his relationship with Summers had improved dramatically since the tragedy at San Francisco and the Worthington Labs. Since Jean’s death. It all seemed like a lifetime ago now, but it had only been two years. There were whispers that the cure was only temporary, that there had been recent cases of a mutant’s power returning but as far as the public knew, nothing had been confirmed yet. Logan was keeping abreast of the developments because of Rogue. In the two years since she’d been at the school, she’d blossomed into a vibrant and rather sassy, young woman. Her decision to take the cure had been controversial, but Xavier’s school preached tolerance and understanding, and Rogue had been welcomed back with open arms even without her mutation. Logan wasn’t sure how she would handle a return of her power if the rumors surrounding the cure turned out to be true.

Whatever happened with the cure, Logan felt that the school and the kids were in good hands now that Summers was back and running things. So much tragedy in so short a time span – losing Jean, Scott, the Professor and then Jean again – had nearly broken the school and Xavier’s vision. Storm had done her best to keep everything together and Logan had helped her in his own way, but it was no secret that Charles had left everything to Scott in his will – he and Jean had been the Professor’s first students, after all. Scott Summers was Charles Xavier’s heir in more ways than one. But now that Scott was back and steering the ship, everything felt like it was in the right place again. 

Logan stepped out into the morning sunshine. It was never too early for a cigar and he was just about to light one when he saw Alex waving him over. He put the cigar back in the inner pocket of his jacket and walked over to where Alex and Lorna were sitting at a picnic table. 

“Missed you at breakfast this morning,” Alex said as Logan sat beside him. “My brother keep you up again?” 

“Don’t know what you mean,” Logan replied, giving Alex a sideways look. Was it just him or had there been something in Alex’s tone that suggested . . . 

Alex laughed. “Scott, man. Still training at all hours of the day. I don’t know where he finds the energy for it. You two seem to have more reservations for the Danger Room than anyone else!” 

Logan shrugged. “I like beating things up,” he said. “And your brother is more trigger happy than he lets on.” 

Alex leaned over conspiratorially. “I _told_ Lorna you two were close,” he said. 

“Dunno how close we can be if _you_ never came up until you turned up at the front door,” Logan pointed out. 

Alex laughed again. “Well,” he shrugged. “ _That’s_ a complicated story. We got separated at the orphanage after our parents died. I grew up thinking Scott was dead too. We don’t really talk about it.” He paused. “Scott had a much rougher time than I did, but that’s his story to tell. You can ask him about it if you’re curious. I’m pretty sure he’d tell you.” 

Logan was absolutely burning with curiosity but he didn’t have Alex’s faith in his newfound closeness with Scott. They’d come a long way but they weren’t quite _there_ yet.

“Are you hungry, Logan?” Lorna asked, interrupting his thoughts. “There’s plenty here.” 

“She missed breakfast too,” Alex informed him. 

“Oh, shut up,” Lorna said, good-naturedly. “We’re on vacation. I’m _entitled_ to sleep in.” 

“Thanks, Lorna,” Logan said, accepting the plate that she passed him. “I am a little hungry.”

The conversation began to wash over Logan at that point. Alex had got him thinking about Scott again. Truth be told, he’d be thinking about Scott _a lot_ lately, wondering in which direction their relationship was headed. It was strange to think that the Summers brothers had grown up separated. Logan could tell they were close, even if they did have a complicated relationship. Alex brought out Scott’s protective side and Alex had a kind of older brother hero-worship thing going on, mixed with his own brand of self-doubt. It was understandable. It would be hard to live in the near-perfect shadow of Scott Summers and that’s what it must’ve felt like to Alex.

Scott had returned to the mansion about six months after the battle at San Francisco. It was Logan who had brought him back. He’d been plagued by strange dreams, unlike his own nightmares of his past, since he’d killed Phoenix. Oftentimes the dreams were of Jean, but sometimes they were of Scott, which was bizarre in itself. Why would he be dreaming of the Boy Scout? It took Logan a long time to figure out that those two sets of dreams were related. It took him even longer to realize that they were clues left behind by Phoenix, implanted in his subconscious, to help him find Scott again. Jean had loved him too much to allow Phoenix to kill him. She’d protected him and she’d entrusted that knowledge to Logan. It was his responsibility to bring Summers back to where he was needed and Logan had accepted that responsibility. 

He’d eventually found Summers in a small town outside of Alkali Lake working as a mechanic in a garage. It had been disarming seeing the Boy Scout covered in grease and dressed in a pair of coveralls so completely at ease in that environment. It wasn’t as if Logan hadn’t seen Cyclops tinkering with his beloved toys – restored classic cars, motorcycles, the Blackbird – back at Westchester, it’s just that Cyclops had done that as part of his downtime, as a kind of hobby. But this Scott Summers? This was a different man – not least of which because he wasn’t wearing his ruby quartz glasses – and Logan had known that instantly. 

Scott didn’t remember him. He had no memory of his life as an X-Man, of the school, of Jean or Professor Xavier. Scott had been willing to hear Logan out, but he’d laughed at the story Logan had told. Logan couldn’t blame him, especially since he hadn’t brought any ‘proof’ that he could use to convince Summers. His tale sounded preposterous to his own ears. His spiel had gone something like this: 

“Hey buddy. You’re the leader of a group known as the X-Men and you’re based out of a school called Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters, which is also a safe haven for mutants. Y’all are mutants and you use your powers to protect mankind and fight for mutant rights. Ya don’t know it, but you’re a mutant. It looks like you’ve been depowered – probably by the Phoenix – and everyone at the school thinks you’re dead, except me ‘cos I’ve been having these dreams about you. Hold up, not as kinky as it sounds. But these dreams helped me find you and I’m here to bring you back home ‘cos we need you.” 

Scott had laughed long and hard in a way that Logan hadn’t thought would be possible for the ‘old’ Scott Summers. It was both gratifying to hear and deeply irritating. He hadn’t realized until that moment what he’d expected when he eventually found Summers, but to have Summers laughing at him in this way was not it. He’d assumed that Summers _would_ believe him or would remember something about his past and fall into line like the good Boy Scout that Logan knew he was. But it turned out that Summers would need more persuading and there was really only one method of persuasion that Logan could fall back on – he attacked the other man.

It was a risky gamble, but it paid off. Summers reacted instinctively and soon they were engaged in a familiar dance. Scott may have lost his memory, but years of training were hardwired into his system. There was no way he would forget that, even unconsciously. Muscle memory. His body remembered how to fight. Logan kept the claws hidden, but when he’d eventually pinned Summers on the ground – not without difficulty – he finally held up his right hand and unsheathed his claws. 

“Believe me now?” he challenged. 

Scott wasn’t afraid of the blades. He examined them curiously but said nothing. 

“How else do you think you could fight like that?” Logan went on. “You have skills that take years and years of training. And if you had your mutant ability, you’d have blasted me clear across this room, probably out the damn window.” 

“What _is_ my mutant ability?” Scott asked.

“You fire an optic blast from your eyes,” Logan answered, thinking that might have been the most preposterous thing he’d said yet. 

Judging by the amused look on Scott’s face (god, he was going to laugh again), he thought so too. “I fire lasers from my eyes?” he said, incredulously. 

“Not lasers,” Logan corrected, the irony not escaping him. How many times had he goaded Summers in the past about his ‘lasers beams’ only to have the other man primly correct him? “They don’t generate any heat,” he explained. 

“Right,” Scott agreed, still sounding disbelieving. “Think you can let me up now? You’re a lot heavier than you look.” 

“It’s the adamantium,” Logan grumbled, moving off of the other man. “It laces my skeleton.” 

“Adamantium,” Scott repeated. “Haven’t heard of that before.” 

“Let’s just say that it’s not on the average periodic table,” Logan replied. He looked the other man up and down. Summers didn’t appear the worse for wear. “You’re coming with me,” he stated. “Even if that means I have to tie you up and throw you in the back of my car.” _Your car_ , he mentally amended.

“You don’t have to do that,” Scott said dryly. “I’ll come see your school.” 

_It’s your school now_ , Logan wanted to tell him but kept silent. He didn’t think Summers was ready for that yet. 

“Are you always this violent?” 

“You have no idea, bub.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr on June 20, 2014.

So Logan brought Scott back to Westchester and though he was greeted joyously by everyone – the younger kids, in particular, were bursting with excitement to see him – Summers remained formal and polite. Storm quickly took stock of the situation and shooed away the group that had immediately surrounded Scott, reminding them that they all had afternoon classes to attend. 

“It’s good to see you, Scott,” Storm said, extending her hand. “My name is Ororo Munroe. We’ve known each other a long time and we’re very good friends.” 

“I’m sorry I don’t remember any of that,” Scott replied, shaking her hand. “But it’s good to meet you nonetheless. Are you in charge of this place?” 

Storm had exchanged a look with Logan at the question. “You could say that,” she said carefully. “At least, for now.” She cleared her throat. “Perhaps Logan could show you around?” she suggested, glancing at Logan for confirmation. Logan nodded. “He can help you get settled in. Maybe walking around familiar surroundings will jog your memory.” 

“Maybe,” Scott agreed, but he didn’t sound all that optimistic.

“I’ll round everyone up when classes are dismissed,” Storm continued. “You can meet everyone then and hopefully it won’t be so overwhelming,” she added. It sounded like a code to Logan, which translated into _Everyone will be warned that you don’t remember them and not to expect too much_. 

“That sounds good,” Scott said, ever the diplomat. 

“All right, then,” Storm said, smiling warmly. “We’ll see you both later.” She looked at Logan one more time before taking her leave.

“She seems very capable,” Scott commented, watching as Storm walked away. 

“She is,” Logan agreed. “Lemme show you to your room.” 

It was too surreal to Logan to be leading the way to Scott and Jean’s room. He wasn’t sure he’d ever actually stepped foot inside it before. Lord knows he wouldn’t exactly have been welcome there. 

“I didn’t think I’d be such a slob,” Scott said with some surprise as he looked around his old room. 

“Yer not,” Logan informed him. “You’re the most OC person here.” 

“Yes, I can tell,” Scott said, automatically picking up some dirty laundry on the floor. 

“You weren’t yourself when you disappeared,” Logan explained. “It was a really bad time for you. That’s why this room is such a mess.” 

“What happened?” 

It was the question Logan had been dreading. He hadn’t mentioned Jean at all since he didn’t feel he was equipped to handle that subject.

“You lost someone,” he said simply, watching as Summers picked up one of the ruby quartz glasses on the bureau. There were other pairs there, together with two of his visors. “You lost probably the most important person in the world to you.” 

Summers put the glasses back down, examining the other items on the bureau until he reached a framed picture of Jean and him. “Is this her?” he asked, picking up the picture frame. 

“Yeah,” Logan said, growing very uncomfortable. “Jean,” he said, impressed that he hadn’t stumbled over her name. “Jean Grey.” 

Summers looked at the picture long and hard and Logan wondered if the other man was willing his memory to return. Eventually, he put the frame back in its place. Logan felt a terrible ache in his heart. There had been no recognition there. It was unbearable to think that Summers couldn’t remember the love of this life, the woman he would’ve sacrificed everything for. It made their own rivalry seem petty by comparison. 

Scott turned towards him. “Why don’t you show me the rest of the school?” he suggested. 

Logan arched an eyebrow. “You don’t wanna . . . I dunno. Freshen up or something?” he replied. 

Scott shook his head. “I can do that later,” he said. 

Logan got the impression that Summers didn’t want to stay in this room that reeked of grief and haunted memories that were beyond his grasp. Logan felt the same way. Jean’s non-presence was almost suffocating him.

So, he gave Scott a tour of the school and its grounds. He stayed away from the secure sublevels, feeling that Storm should be the one to walk Cyclops through that part of the mansion. Summers was observant and inquisitive as always. He asked a lot of questions and to his great surprise, Logan found that he could answer most of them. He didn’t consider himself to be that much a part of the school, but his answers would suggest otherwise. 

At one point, Scott asked, “What do you teach?”

“Me?” Logan said, taken aback by the question. “I don’t. Teach,” he clarified. 

“Really? So, you’re just . . .” Summers trailed off. 

_God, even without his memory and without meaning to, Summers could still be a dick to him_ , Logan thought wonderingly. _The little shit was going to make him say it._

“I’m a part of the team,” Logan said, almost defensively. “I teach combat training.” 

“For the X-Men?” 

“Yes.” 

“And this is the headquarters?” 

“I thought I’d let Storm give you the grand tour of the X facilities. They’re underground.” 

“Storm?” 

“Ororo Munroe,” Logan said, realizing that Summers wouldn’t even know their names. “We all have . . .” he searched for the right word.

“Code names?” Scott offered, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. 

Logan sighed. “Yes,” he said, his patience wearing thin. _It was too much_ , he thought. Trying to explain the X-Men to the leader of the X-Men. Scott would’ve had their hides if they didn’t use their code names in the field. 

“What’s your name?” 

“Wolverine.” 

“And mine?” 

“Cyclops.” 

This time Scott didn’t hold back his smile. “Cyclops,” he repeated, a distinct note of amusement in his voice. 

“It’s because of your optic beam,” Logan explained a little wearily. “You control it through your visor and when you fire it, it looks like you have only one eye. So, Cyclops.” He didn’t add that One-Eye was one of his favorite nicknames for Summers, although he often used it with a derogatory kind of affection. 

“So, Wolverine,” Scott said, maybe sensing Logan’s dampening spirits. “Where can we get something to eat in this place?”

* * * * *

Logan spent the rest of the morning with Alex and Lorna. They went into the city to get some shopping done – well, Lorna got some shopping done. Alex and Logan transformed into portable clothes hangers or whatever it was that Lorna needed carrying.

“I love New Mexico,” Lorna said, “and I wouldn’t want to live anywhere else. But it’s not exactly New York City, either.” 

“Thanks for doing this, man,” Alex said, as he and Logan trailed after her. 

“No problem,” Logan grunted. 

“Lorna’s not really a big shopper,” Alex explained. “Not like Betsy, but she has her moments.” 

“If you say so, kid.” 

Alex grinned. “How old are you, Logan?” 

“Older than dirt,” Logan replied. 

By the time the three of them got back from their shopping spree it was midafternoon. Logan and Alex were carrying bags and packages back into the mansion when they both caught sight of Scott and Warren on the roof. 

“What happened here?” Alex called up to them. 

“One of the new kids lost control of their powers and put a hole through the roof,” Scott called back. 

“Isn’t that your job, Slim?” Logan said. 

“Funny, Wolverine.” 

“Do you need any help?” Logan asked, perfectly serious this time. 

“No, Warren and I have it covered,” Scott answered. “But thanks for offering.” 

Logan wasn’t so sure about that. Scott was clearly working on the roof, shirtless but dressed in a pair of work pants. If Logan thought he looked particularly attractive, all sweaty and golden-kissed by the sun, he certainly didn’t acknowledge it. Warren, on the other hand, was lazily circling the area. He seemed to be more interested in flying than fixing the roof. But as if on cue, the winged man alighted on the roof just in time to hand Scott the tool that he was about to reach for. Warren was also shirtless and he looked every bit the celestial being of his moniker. Logan felt a flare of irritation at the smile of thanks Scott sent Warren’s way and he resumed his walk back to the mansion. Alex exchanged a few more words with his brother, but it wasn’t long before he caught up with him.

“Those two,” the younger Summers’ brother said with a shake of his head. 

“What about them?” Logan asked, a tad irritably. 

“They’ve been dancing around each other for years,” Alex replied. “Well, Warren has,” he said after a moment. 

“Warren?” Logan repeated disbelievingly. Was Alex actually saying what he thought Alex was saying? ‘Cos this was news to him. 

“Warren’s been pining after my brother since . . .” Alex paused. “The beginning, I guess. He never stood a chance though, once Scott and Jean got together.” 

“Hang on,” Logan interrupted. “I heard this differently.” 

“Lemme guess,” Alex said as they walked up the stairs. “You heard that Scott and Warren _competed_ for Jean, and that Scott won in the end.” 

“You mean they _didn’t_?” Logan said, completely baffled. 

Alex laughed. “It depends upon your perspective,” he answered. “A lot of people think they did.” 

“But you’re not one of those people,” Logan prodded. 

Alex gave him a sly smile. “Maybe that competition _was_ genuine,” he conceded. “But I always thought it was more a bait-and-switch kind of deal,” he confessed. “Warren was after Scott, not Jean.” 

They’d reached the door to the guest bedroom where Lorna and Alex were staying. 

“Thanks for all your help, Logan,” Alex said. “And the company,” he added. 

“Like I said before, kid,” Logan replied. “Didn’t have much else to do.” 

“Hey,” Alex said, grabbing his arm before Logan could walk away. “You should make your move soon,” he advised. “Scott has the patience of a saint, but Warren is _real_ competition. There’s a lot of history there.” 

“What’re you –” Logan began but was cut off by the sound of Lorna’s voice calling Alex from within the room. 

“I’m here,” Alex called back. “Thanks again,” he said hurriedly, shutting the door on a very perplexed Wolverine.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr on June 22, 2014.

Scott and Warren did have a lot of history, Logan reflected, but his own complicated history with Summers, while shorter by comparison, was nothing to sneeze at. When it became apparent that Scott would need help regaining his memory, the senior X-Men, both new and old, had gathered together to discuss the options available to them before presenting them to Scott. The memory of Charles Xavier had hung heavy over all of them at that moment. If the Professor had been alive, he would’ve helped Scott unlock his memories. There was no doubt about that and there was no one better equipped to do so. But the Professor was no longer with them and neither was Jean. 

“There have got to be other telepaths,” Logan stated. 

“There’s Emma Frost,” Hank, who had returned to the school the moment Summers had been found, suggested. 

“No,” Storm said with a vehemence that surprised Logan. “I am not letting the White Queen step foot through that front door, much less rifle around in Scott’s head. God only knows what she’ll do there.” 

“I understand your reservations, Storm,” Hank began. 

“No, Hank,” Storm said, cutting him off. “I don’t think you do. The White Queen is not to be trusted.” 

“We’ve worked with her before,” Hank tried again. 

“Only because we had no other choice,” Storm said. “And the Professor was with us then.” 

“Who is Emma Frost?” Logan interjected, before the disagreement between Hank and Storm could escalate. 

“That is a complicated question, my friend,” Hank replied. 

“Simplify it,” Logan stated. 

“Well, Emma Frost is, among other things, the headmistress of the Massachusetts Academy,” Hank explained. “It’s another school for mutants.” 

“There’s _another_ school for mutants?” Logan said, disbelievingly.

“It’s a different sort of school,” Storm said icily. 

“Whatever else you think of her,” Hank told Storm. “Emma is a good headmistress.” 

“I still don’t trust her,” Storm repeated. “And that’s the most important thing. Have you forgotten the trouble she caused between Jean and Scott before? I wouldn’t put it past her to mess with his head again when he’s in this vulnerable state.” 

“Scott has very strong psychic shields,” Hank reminded her. “Far above the average for a non-telepathic person. He can withstand a high-level telepathic intrusion.” 

“That’s the Scott _we_ know,” Storm countered. “It’s unlikely he’ll be able to shield against her in his current condition. And wouldn’t fighting her defeat the point of taking down his mental blocks?” 

Logan was starting to lose the thread of the discussion and it was veering into soap operatic territory to him. “All right,” he said loudly. “No Emma Frost. Who else is there?” 

“Psylocke,” Storm quickly said. “Betsy Braddock.” 

“And you trust her?” 

“She’s a former X-Man.” 

“Well, that sounds good,” Logan agreed. 

Hank let out a little chuckle. “Yes,” he said. “And Betsy also caused a bit of trouble between Scott and Jean once upon a time.” 

Storm threw him an exasperated look. “That was a _very_ long time ago and Betsy wasn’t entirely herself,” she said. “She isn’t going to mess with Scott now, not when he needs her help. Besides, Scott wasn’t the one who harbored a crush on her.”

Hank laughed outright at Storm’s last comment, as though it were a private joke. Logan supposed that it was. 

“Touché,” Hank said, tipping an imaginary cap in Storm’s direction. 

“Now that _Days of Our Lives_ is over,” Logan said, trying to move things along. “How do we contact this Betsy Braddock?” 

“Warren would be our best bet,” Storm suggested. 

“I thought those two –” Hank began. 

“They have,” Storm confirmed as the conversation was starting to fly over Logan again. “But he’d still know how to contact her. They’ve kept in touch.” 

“Is she with the private sector now?”

“That’s the last that I heard,” Storm said. “But you never know. She could still be working for S.T.R.I.K.E.” 

Logan wasn’t even going to ask what S.T.R.I.K.E. was. He didn’t want to know. “That’s settled, then?” he said. “This Warren fellow will contact Betsy and ask for her help? Who’s going to contact Warren?” 

“I’ll do that,” Storm volunteered. 

“What is it with Summers and telepaths?” Logan said wonderingly, but the comment was mostly to himself. 

“It’s the cool Summers façade,” Kurt spoke up from his perch above the group. “Intelligent women always want to crack the veneer of the mysterious man.” 

“You’re pretty mysterious yourself, Elf,” Logan told him. 

“As are you, Wolverine,” Kurt agreed, leaping gracefully onto the floor. “But neither of us have Scott’s perfect physique and chiseled good looks.” Kurt paused at the looks the other three X-Men gave him. “What?” he said. “Do you disagree with my assessment?” 

“Since you all seem to have a hard on for our Fearless Leader,” Logan began. 

“We can excuse you from that,” Hank ribbed him good-naturedly. 

Logan wasn’t so sure that would be accurate but since he wasn’t about to continue _that_ line of conversation, he changed the subject instead.

“What about Scott’s power?” he asked. “Is that going to come back?” 

“Tony Stark developed a sort of tracker to monitor the strength levels of the X gene,” Hank explained. 

“For _all_ mutants?” Logan interrupted, genuinely shocked. 

“No, it’s calibrated just for Scott,” Hank assured him. “Another long story,” he added, circumventing any of Logan’s potential questions with a wave of his hand. “The point is, the tracker shows that Scott’s X gene has definitely not been cancelled out. It’s just activated at extremely low levels, practically negligible, which explains why he’s depowered.” 

“That doesn’t really answer the question,” Logan pointed out. 

“Actually, it does,” Hank said. “Scott’s been back for three months and I’ve been monitoring the levels of his X gene regularly. The tests indicate that his levels are rising incrementally. Left on their own, his power should come back naturally.” 

“So you’re saying he could wake up one morning and just blow a hole through the roof?” 

“Hopefully, not,” Hank said. “But yes, I do believe his power will return on its own.” 

“But there’s no telling when?” Storm asked. “’Rising incrementally’ doesn’t suggest any time soon.” 

“No,” Hank agreed. He looked thoughtful. “I have yet to prove it but I believe that Scott’s depowering is related to his loss of memory. Once those mental blocks are removed, I’m convinced his power will also return.” 

“All the more reason to contact Betsy then,” Logan said. “We done here?” 

“Yes,” Storm confirmed. “Logan, would you mind running this plan by Scott? See if he’s okay with it? You’re the closest one to him now.” 

There was a time not too long ago when that statement would’ve been completely absurd, but now it was perfectly true. 

Logan merely shrugged. “Sure,” he said casually. “I’m seeing him later anyway.”

* * * * *

It had become somewhat of a ritual for the two of them to share a beer overlooking the pond in the grounds at the end of the day. That’s where Logan found Scott when he brought the ice bucket with him. (It was his turn to provide the beer.)

“Is it going to be that kind of conversation?” Summers said, gesturing towards the ice bucket. 

“Yep,” Logan agreed, handing him the first bottle. 

Logan filled Scott in on the discussion he’d had with Storm, Hank and Kurt and what they thought was the best way to proceed with his amnesia. 

“If you agree to all that,” he finished off. “Storm will get in touch with Betsy and we’ll get the ball rolling.” 

“It sounds like a reasonable plan,” Scott assessed in his matter-of-fact manner. “And I _do_ want my memory back. I’m less sure about the mutant power the rest of you keep telling me about,” he admitted. “It sounds dangerous. Plus, I’ve tried those ruby quartz glasses. My whole world must be nothing but red.” 

_Dangerous was an understatement_ , Logan thought. Summers was positively lethal with his mutant ability, not that he ever used it to actually kill. As for his entire world being red – Logan had often wondered about that, but he’d never actually asked. He supposed it was true. When Scott finally got his memory back what he’d miss most about this new Summers was seeing his expressive blue, blue eyes. There was nothing else like them.

“Logan,” Scott said, sounding a little pensive. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.” 

“What’s that?” 

“Before, were we . . .” Scott hesitated. “Was there something between us?” 

“Whaddya mean?” Logan said, more defensively than he’d intended. 

If he were being honest with himself, there was a part of him that didn’t want Summers to get his memory back. He liked what they had now, this easy camaraderie between them that would’ve been impossible before. He didn’t want to lose that and whenever Scott asked about what they were like before, he’d always found a way to evade. He worried those questions meant that Scott was starting to remember that they didn’t like each other at all, that they had been rivals, fighting over the same woman of all things. Not that it had ever really been a competition, Logan thought now. There was no doubt about whom Jean had chosen. 

“Sometimes I get this vibe from you,” Scott said quietly. “That maybe we were . . . more than friends?” 

Logan stared at Summers long and hard. Was he pulling some sort of prank? When Scott didn’t flinch, Logan burst out laughing. Of all the things he was afraid of Summers saying, _that_ had never even crossed his mind.

“Ya couldn’t be more off the mark, Slim,” Logan said, in between gasps of laughter. “No, there was nothin’ like that between us. Hell, ya couldn’t even call us friends.” 

“I find that hard to believe,” Scott said seriously. 

“Well, it’s true,” Logan told him, his laughter finally subsiding. “We were at each other’s throats most of the time. At the most, we were . . .” Logan searched for the right word. “Colleagues,” he shrugged. “Teammates. Rivals the rest of the time.” 

“You do have that competitive streak,” Scott conceded, taking a drink of his beer. 

“Like you don’t,” Logan retorted. 

“Tired of getting your ass kicked in the Danger Room?” 

“Did it ever occur to you that maybe I’m holding back?” 

“I don’t think you are.” 

Summers was right. He wasn’t holding back. In hand-to-hand combat, he kept his claws sheathed for the sake of fairness and there was nothing he could do about his healing factor, but Summers was an absolute master of close quarters fighting and Logan was consistently getting his ass kicked. 

“We _are_ friends now,” Summers suddenly said, looking to Logan for confirmation. 

Logan nodded, not quite trusting himself to speak. 

“We’ll still be friends after I get my memory back.” 

“If you say so, Slim,” Logan said, staring intently at his beer bottle. 

“I do,” Summers said seriously. “I’m not going to forget what you’ve done for me, Logan, no matter what our relationship was like before. You’ve done more for me than anybody else here.” 

Logan felt a suspicious lump rising in his throat that he quickly washed away with his beer. It was good to hear Summers say that, whether or not it was actually true, whether or not it actually happened. It meant that his friendship was valuable to Summers, just as Summers friendship had become valuable to him. 

Now, however, Logan would look back on that conversation and wonder. It was the only time before and since that either one of them had brought up the possibility of there being more than friendship in their relationship. What was that ‘vibe’ Summers had referred to? At the time, Logan had thought it had been some kind of residual effect of his feelings for Jean, the fear that Summers would figure out that he had fallen in love with his girlfriend before his memories came back. But now he wasn’t so sure. Maybe there had been something, not just when Scott had lost his memories, but even before then. That early period with Cyclops wasn’t so black and white to Logan anymore and things between them had only gotten grayer and murkier since.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr on July 5, 2014.

Betsy couldn’t come to Westchester immediately. Storm’s tentative guess that she might still be working for S.T.R.I.K.E. turned out to be spot on. Betsy was on a long-term assignment that she would have dropped at a moment’s notice for the X-Men. However, once Scott was informed of Betsy’s situation, he told Storm that Betsy should finish the assignment first. Too much time had been invested in it for Betsy _not_ to complete it. His memories could wait. He’d adjusted well to life at the school – he’d resumed teaching, he was training regularly with Wolverine and some of the younger X-Men – a few more months wasn’t going to make a difference. 

As it turned out, Scott didn’t have to wait all that long. Betsy wrapped up her assignment with S.T.R.I.K.E. a little under two months after the X-Men contacted her. By that time, it had been nearly a year since the battle of San Francisco, nearly a year that Scott had lived without any memory of his previous life. What amazed Logan about the other man’s situation was how highly adaptable Summers had proven to be. Prior to Alkali Lake, Logan had thought him to be rigid and unyielding. While that was still true in certain circumstances, Logan now saw that it was completely false in others. Scott _adapted_ to the environment around him, and it wasn’t just because the school and its routine should have been familiar. In hindsight, it made sense that Summers should be so adaptable. It was probably that same trait that made him such a master strategist – the ability to adapt to the changing circumstances of the field. 

Summers’ psychic sessions with Betsy started immediately. They were going to take things slowly – no sudden jolts, no returning memories wholesale. Everyone was acutely aware of Scott’s condition at the time of his disappearance/believed death and no one wanted him to return to that state of intolerable grief. Of course, Scott was aware of Jean’s death, but returning the memories and hence the feelings associated with those memories was going to be especially tricky. 

Logan started making himself scarce once the sessions with Betsy started. He dreaded the coolness he expected Summers to exhibit towards him, the gradual distancing of their relationship. Despite what Scott had said about remaining friends even after his memories returned, Logan prepared for the worst. Scott immediately figured out what Logan was doing and he wouldn’t have any of it. He purposely sought Logan out, he kept their routine going and it didn’t take long for Logan to capitulate. Who knew the Boy Scout’s charm could be so irresistible? Scott had already had his early memories restored and wasn’t behaving any differently towards him. Of course, that could change when Scott actually _remembered_ him and their highly antagonistic relationship. Then again, maybe things would be all right. Hope was a word that normally wasn’t a part of Logan’s vocabulary, but dammit, the Boy Scout was having that kind of effect on him. 

Hank’s hypothesis about Scott’s depowering being linked to his memory loss also proved to be correct. As Scott’s memories returned, the levels that Hank had been monitoring also began to increase. It reached a point where Hank recommended that Scott begin wearing his ruby quartz glasses again, since his levels were almost at full strength, which meant that his power could return on any day. Logan remembered clearly the last psychic session with Betsy. It had been down at the labs instead of the Professor’s study (everyone still thought of it as the Professor’s study) so that Hank could take some readings. Scott’s memories would be complete and Hank hoped to gather data on the anticipated return of Scott’s optic beam. Summers had been lying down on one of the medical examining tables, Betsy standing at the head of the table, fingertips resting on his temples with a ghostlike touch. Logan could actually see the faint lavender glow that emitted from Betsy’s hands. Her power was unlike that of the Professor’s or Jean’s. She had the ability to manifest it, and the lavender glow matched her lavender hair. Hank had told him not to be deceived by Betsy’s supermodel looks. Psylocke was a formidable force in the field. Logan hadn’t sparred with Betsy in the Danger Room but he took Hank’s words to heart. The woman looked like an assassin to him and he could read the killer instinct in her. 

The session barely lasted twenty minutes and while these were normally closed-door affairs, the unusual situation with Hank monitoring Cyclops and the open space of the examination room meant that there was an audience, one that Scott had not objected to. Bobby, Marie, Piotr and Kurt watched from the observation room, but Logan and Ororo had joined Betsy and Hank on the main floor. When Betsy removed her hands from Scott’s head, there was a moment of anticipation and Logan could swear that everyone in the room was holding their breath. Then a familiar red light flared and grew in intensity behind the visor and that collective breath was released in relief. Scott lay still for a few seconds longer before sitting up, his gaze immediately falling on Logan even as Ororo moved forward to embrace him. Betsy had placed an encouraging hand on his back as well, her face radiantly lit up with a smile while Hank was excitedly talking about the readings that had been recorded, but Logan felt a strange warmth bloom in his chest that Scott’s attention was focused on him, even though he hadn’t moved towards the other man. Scott nodded in his direction as he hugged Ororo and Logan returned the gesture. He knew for certain then that everything was going to be all right between them. 

Cyclops was back.

* * * * *

Logan walked the sublevels of the mansion, headed towards the Danger Room. He wasn’t surprised when someone fell into step beside him. He knew it was Summers. Since he’d just come from the locker room it meant that Summers had come from somewhere else.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Summers began. 

“Shoot.” 

“That uniform.” Scott paused and gave him a sideways look. 

“What about it?” Logan returned. 

“It’s falling apart. You _do_ have your own uniforms now.” 

Logan shrugged. “It’s comfortable,” he said by way of explanation.

They both stopped outside the double doors of the Danger Room. Cyclops gave him a slightly disbelieving look as he shook his head. “I’ll never understand what goes on in that head of yours,” he said. 

“Believe me, bub. You wouldn’t want to.” 

It was a lie. In the past year and a half since Scott returned, Logan had come to grips with the idea that Scott understood him better than anyone else. 

“What’s on the menu for today?” he asked. “More Sentinels? Brood? The Brotherhood? Wouldn’t mind getting my claws into Sabretooth.” 

“Something special,” Cyclops answered a little enigmatically and Logan should’ve been concerned by the disarming smile that accompanied that response. “Krakoa.” 

“What’s a Krakoa?” Logan asked as the doors opened. 

His reply was to be swept into the simulation already underway in the Danger Room and the ‘deserted’ island that was Krakoa.

* * * * *

They got their assess kicked but in the end Cyclops had managed to lobotomize the enormous creature while Logan had distracted and blinded it.

“Ya actually fought that thing before?” Logan asked when they were back in the locker room. Their lockers were now side-by-side. 

“It was a real test,” Scott answered. 

“How’d you take it down?” 

“Teamwork.” 

Logan could practically feel the other man smirking as he stripped off his uniform – Cyke’s uniform. Scott was right. The uniform that he used for training was on its last legs. It wasn’t even his. It was one of Cyke’s old uniforms, the one he’d loaned Logan for Logan’s first mission with the X-Men to stop Magneto on Liberty Island a lifetime ago. In the beginning, Logan had worn it in the training sessions to spite Cyclops, but the uniform had long since taken on a different significance. Logan liked the feel of the worn leather. The uniform was _very_ comfortable and he wanted to be comfortable during training. But more importantly, he liked having something of Cyke’s. He liked knowing that the same leather had touched Summers’ skin and no matter how many times the uniform had been washed, his keen senses could still detect Scott’s scent on it now mingled with his own. Logan couldn’t explain why that made him happy, but it did. There was something _comforting_ about the commingling of their scents. He didn’t even throw the uniform into the hamper to be washed with the others. He hand washed it himself. 

“You really need to get rid of that,” Scott said to him, wearing only a white towel and the goggles he used when he took a shower. 

Logan had stripped half the uniform off and he was sitting on the bench in front of the lockers about to pop open a can of beer. He shrugged. “Maybe,” he said, non-committedly. 

Summers eyed him for a moment longer before holding out his hand. Logan passed him the beer as soon as he’d drunk from it. He watched as Summers took a long gulp. He probably should’ve been embarrassed that he was outright admiring Summers’ form as he drank the beer, but Logan didn’t care anymore. Scott was a beautiful man. Anybody could appreciate that. Summers passed the beer back to him when he was done. 

“Warren and I are going out for a drink, probably grab a bite to eat, after I change,” he told Logan. “Do you want to join us?” 

Logan took another drink as he considered the offer. “Just the two of you?” he said at last. He hated that the first thought that had come to his mind was that it sounded like a date. What should it matter to him if Warren and Scott went out on a date? 

Scott’s brow furrowed. “Haven’t had a chance to ask anyone else to join us,” he admitted. “But I’m pretty sure Warren wouldn’t mind if you did.” 

Logan wasn’t so sure about that. While he and Wings didn’t hate each other, their interaction was definitely on the cool side. He certainly didn’t consider Warren to be a friend and the other man probably thought the same about him. Scott could act as a buffer between the two of them, but Logan would feel too much like an intruder. Besides, he wanted Scott to himself. Wolverine wasn’t big on sharing. 

“Maybe next time,” he said at last. 

Scott nodded. “All right,” he agreed. 

Logan watched as the other man headed towards the showers, knowing that Scott could feel his gaze.

* * * * *

Logan had a quiet, uneventful night. He’d ended up watching a movie with some of the kids in the rec room after dinner. He told himself that he wasn’t waiting up for Summers (because that would be ridiculous) but he also knew in his heart that he was. He’d been having second thoughts about turning down Summers’ invitation for drinks and dinner, especially when he found out that it really was just Warren and Scott who’d gone out. Being the third wheel on their ‘date’ might’ve been fun, especially if it got a rise out of Wings.

It was with some relief when Scott unexpectedly settled on the sofa to his right much later that evening. By now, movie night had somehow turned into a movie marathon and the kids were on the second film of the _Die Hard_ series. Since it was a Saturday, Logan didn’t think the usual bedtimes applied. 

“Isn’t this a little violent for some of the younger children?” Scott inquired. 

“Yer kidding, right?” Logan said. “With what we do in this school?” 

“They’re not all X-Men,” Scott reminded him, reaching over Logan to grab what the other man presumed was Logan’s beer. (He was right.) 

“Yet,” Logan added.

Summers grinned at him and took a drink of the beer. He relaxed against the sofa and Logan liked that look on him. Something was bothering Logan, however, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He’d noticed it when Summers had leaned over him – an unusual scent – and there was something off about Summers now. 

“That’s not your shirt,” he suddenly said, rather loudly since a few _Shhhs_ were immediately thrown in his direction. Logan didn’t know why he was being shushed. He didn’t think you could hear him above the noise of the explosions onscreen. 

Scott started. “Uh, no,” he said. “It’s Warren’s.”

Logan curbed the urge to bring out the claws. It had almost been an instinctive reaction, just like the desire to rip the offending shirt to pieces. He waited for an explanation as to why Scott was wearing Warren’s shirt but it never came and Logan realized that he had no business asking. Normally, that wouldn’t have stopped him from asking anyway, but sitting in the rec room with apparently eavesdropping young minds gave him pause. Marie had asked him some rather strange questions about Summers the other day, and there had been Alex’s unsolicited advice earlier that afternoon. Petulantly asking why Scott was wearing Warren’s shirt in public after suspecting that the two men had gone on a date would just reinforce the mistaken belief that he was a jealous boyfriend, which he obviously was not. 

Still, that didn’t prevent Logan from concocting all sorts of crazy scenarios in his head for why Scott was wearing Warren’s shirt. He was still thinking about it when he felt a tap on his shoulder and realized that the rec room was empty save for himself and Summers. 

“Thought you fell asleep,” Summers said to him. 

“Ain’t there a fourth film in this franchise?” 

“We just _finished_ the fourth film,” Scott said, amused. “It’s nearly 4am. Time to go.” Summers stood up and stretched, working a crick out of his neck.

“Cyke,” Logan said suddenly. “You ever think that maybe we could –” but he stopped just as abruptly. _What the hell had gotten into him?_

“Could what?” Scott prodded and he seemed to be watching Logan carefully. 

Logan stood up and stretched as well. “Never mind,” he said. He could feel the other man still looking at him, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to meet that ruby gaze. “We still on for that morning run?” 

“Why not?” Scott said. “It’s a Sunday morning. We can still get in four hours of sleep.”

“Running at 8am?” Logan replied. “That’s late for you.” 

“What can I say?” Scott said, clapping a hand on Logan’s shoulder. “Your bad habits are rubbing off on me.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr on July 8, 2014.

As much as Logan’s curiosity had gone on overdrive the night Scott had somehow ended up wearing Warren’s shirt (during? after?) their ‘date,’ he soon discovered, much to his supreme annoyance, that it wasn’t an isolated incident. Logan caught Scott wearing Warren’s clothes on several other occasions, sometimes accompanied by a reasonable explanation (there was the time the two of them were back on the roof to do a bit of painting on the hole that they had originally patched and Scott’s shirt had been completely ruined by a paint spill. Warren had _generously_ offered his since he preferred to go shirtless and was doing a lot of flying anyway). Other occasions ranged from more puzzling (the swim trunks) to completely baffling (the red bowtie – what the hell? Scott didn’t even _like_ bowties!). 

Things finally boiled over the morning Logan came out of his room (it was early by his standards – apparently, Scott’s _good_ habits were rubbing off on him) only to run into Summers in the hallway attempting to sneak back into his own room. At least, that’s what it looked like to Logan. 

“A little old to be sneakin’ around, ain’t cha?” he said, his voice reverberating loudly in the deserted hallway. His ambush had the desired effect as the normally unflappable Summers started, almost dropping the key to his door. 

“Good morning, Logan,” Scott said calmly, turning around and looking at him.

Logan smirked as he walked towards the other man, but that smirk was soon wiped off his face when he realized that Summers was wearing Warren’s clothes again – one of Warren’s silk shirts only partly buttoned up with a tie carelessly hanging around the undone collar. Logan was simultaneously turned on and mad as hell. Scott had never looked sexier to him, disheveled as he was, rumpled as though he’d just gotten up from bed and hastily changed. The problem was he also reeked of Warren and it didn’t take a genius to figure out whose bed Scott had shared the previous night and from whose room he was consequently sneaking out of now in order to return to his own. Logan was so jealous he was literally seeing red and giving in to the urge to put his claws through the wall was becoming a real possibility. 

“Have a good night?” he asked through gritted teeth. 

“More like a long night,” Scott answered, oblivious to Logan’s simmering rage and change in demeanor. 

That was _not_ the response Logan wanted to hear. He knew what he’d do to Summers if he had the other man for a night and none of those things involved clothes.

“See ya at breakfast,” Logan practically growled before turning away. He had to distance himself from Summers before he did something stupid. 

“Hey,” Scott said, grasping Logan’s forearm before he could leave. “Are you okay?” 

Logan glanced down at where Summers’ held him and Scott immediately released him, as though the look had burned. Cyclops should’ve been thankful that Logan wasn’t the one with optic blasts. 

“Just peachy, Cyke,” Logan sneered, not even attempting to feign a good mood. 

Summers frowned but didn’t comment. Eventually, he nodded and said, “See you at breakfast.”

Logan could feel Summers watching him as he walked away. A few moments later, he heard a key being entered into a latch and the click of a door opening and then closing as Summers disappeared into his room.

* * * * *

After lunch, the X-Men received an unusual call from the government and the recently formed Bureau of Mutant Affairs. There had been a series of ‘natural’ disturbances reported in Colorado and early investigations had led to the tentative conclusion that it was mutant-related. The Bureau wasn’t equipped yet to handle that sort of thing and they preferred to bring in the X-Men, who were experienced in these matters, rather than the military.

“Should we really be doing the government’s job for them?” Hank questioned as the team walked to the Blackbird’s hangar. 

“I think it’s a marked improvement that the government has turned to us for help,” Scott replied. He glanced at Hank. “You’re the diplomat among us. I thought you of all people would approve of their decision.” 

“Not if they just want to co-opt the X-Men for their own purposes,” Hank replied seriously. 

Scott shook his head. “We won’t let that happen,” he assured his friend. “It would be good, though, to be involved in what the Bureau is doing,” he added. “Precisely so we can keep an eye on things.” 

“You thinking of cutting some kind of deal with them, Cyke?” Logan asked. He’d been listening to their conversation.

“Maybe not a deal, but that’s not out of the question either,” Scott said carefully. “I do think it’s worth it to set up a proper meeting with a representative to make sure we’re all on the same page. What we do today will earn us some goodwill and that’s a positive start to the relationship.” 

“Better not fuck up then,” Logan said brusquely as he walked by the other two men and into the hangar. Psylocke, who was rounding out the team for this mission, was already waiting beside the Blackbird. 

Hank watched Logan go before throwing Scott an inquiring look. “It appears Wolverine got out of the wrong side of the bed this morning,” he observed. 

“He’s a bit grumpier than usual,” Scott agreed. “What?” he asked at the especially long look Hank gave him. 

Hank sighed. “Nothing Cyclops,” he said.

* * * * *

The ‘natural’ disturbances did indeed turn out to be mutant related. They were caused by a teenager who had just come into his powers, and his powers happened to be able to control (a term loosely used in this instance) seismic activity. The team found him in one of the state parks where the disturbances had been tracked. At first, park rangers and geologists in the area had believed the underground activity to be a precursor to an earthquake or natural disaster but the eruptions had been too erratic, had moved too quickly and had been of varying strengths. There had been no pattern that they could discern such as movement along a fault line, and so had reached the conclusion that the disturbances may have been manmade – or mutant made – which proved to be correct.

The kid’s name was Raymond and he was a runaway. He was understandably afraid of his new powers and he’d chosen to hide out in the park where he thought he would at least be isolated and do the least amount of damage if things got too out of control. Every time he got anxious or stressed out, something would happen. Sometimes he could just be reaching for a drink and the action would trigger a seismic attack. Raymond couldn’t understand or control his power at all and that made him even more confused and dangerous, hence the increased intensity and frequency of the seismic activity that had drawn the attention of the authorities. 

The X-Men found Raymond in the cave that he’d been calling ‘home’ for the past week. They’d followed the seismic trail provided to them by the Bureau of Mutant Affairs and once they’d narrowed down the geographic area, it hadn’t been difficult for Psylocke to scan and locate Raymond’s mental signature.

 _It was convenient having a telepath on the team again_ , Logan realized. It was evident that Cyclops preferred it that way as well. Scott was used to telepathic communication and he seamlessly incorporated it into the team’s dynamics and strategy. It was equally clear that he and Psylocke had worked together before, and that the months they’d spent restoring Scott’s memories had only brought them closer. Logan remembered the original conversation between Storm and Hank about Betsy, and the insinuation that she’d come between Jean and Scott once upon a time. He wondered if Betsy had renewed her interest in the leader of the X-Men. That appeared to be the case. Otherwise, why was she sticking around now that her original job was done? Logan watched as Cyclops and Psylocke spoke to the kid. First Warren and now Betsy. There was just too much fucking competition for Summers’ affection. 

It was when the team was leaving the cave that it happened. Raymond had just crossed the threshold with Psylocke at his side when there was a loud rumbling and then the cave was falling in on itself. Beast immediately rushed forward – he’d been waiting outside so as not to frighten Raymond with his appearance – but even with his agility, he barely managed to make it in time to push Raymond and Psylocke out of the way of the falling boulders. Logan was nearest to the entrance, but instead of heading out he went back in, knowing that Cyclops was still inside. He lunged for Scott just in time, pushing Scott back into the cave, even as he used his body as a shield for the other man. They landed together on the cave floor with Logan on top as the rocks and dust settled around them, the cave now encased in darkness. 

“Cyclops,” Logan said, when everything was still at last. His hearing could detect Scott’s breathing, but Scott’s visor was dark, which meant that the other man was probably unconscious. “Scott,” he said a bit more loudly. 

There was still no response. 

“Dammit, Cyclops,” Logan growled. He’d have to check the other man for injuries even if Scott was unconscious. 

Slowly, a red light flared and then grew in intensity. It was the most welcome sight in the darkness of the cave. 

“Logan,” Scott said, with a cough. 

Logan eased off the other man, but still hovered above him. “You okay?” he asked. “You hurt anywhere?”

“I think you may have crushed my ribs,” Scott deadpanned back, moving to sit up. 

Logan eased off some more until he was sitting beside Scott on the floor. “Better me than those falling boulders,” he retorted. “You’re welcome, by the way,” he added. 

Logan felt a hand clap his left shoulder. “Thank you,” Scott said sincerely. 

“Think you can blast us out of here now?” he suggested. 

“Let me contact Betsy,” was Scott’s reply.

The other man fell silent and Logan knew that Scott had reached Psylocke mentally. Hell, Betsy had probably been trying to contact him the moment the cave fell in. Logan never thought he’d see the day when he’d be envious of telepaths (he’d had enough of people poking and prodding in his head to the point where he was mentally screwed up beyond repair), but he also realized that telepathy, a form of communication which seemed to be integral to Summers, was something he’d never be able to share with the other man. They were both crap at expressing things in words, especially feelings. Maybe it would be easier if they didn’t have to _talk_. 

“Hank’s taken readings of the cave structure,” Scott suddenly said, breaking the silence. “He says it’s too unstable for me to simply blast through. Another explosion will likely cause an even bigger cave in.” 

“Should’ve brought the Elf,” Logan muttered. The sulphur from Nightcrawler’s teleportation made him nauseous, but it would’ve been the fastest way out of the cave. “What’s Plan B?” 

“Raymond says that this cave _isn’t_ a dead end,” Scott informed him. “We can follow it to the other end, no branching paths, no wrong turns to make. They’ll meet us on the other side.” He stood up. Suddenly, a small beam of light flashed on the floor beside Logan and together with it was an outstretched gloved hand. Of course, Cyclops would have a pocket flashlight with him. 

“Part of your Boy Scout training?” Logan said dryly as he accepted the proffered hand. 

“Always be prepared,” Scott said with a grin. “C’mon, let’s go.”

They walked together in silence, following the stream of light provided by Scott’s pocket flashlight. The cave had been elevated to begin with but it was clear that they were ascending even more. Logan wondered if they were going to exit onto some kind of cliff face. That’s just the kind of shit that would happen to them. 

“You and Betsy seem pretty close,” he said a little aimlessly thirty minutes into their walk. (Raymond had neglected to tell them how far or how long the cave actually was.) 

“Well, we’re friends,” Scott said, as if the answer were obvious. “I like to think that I have a certain amount of rapport with all the X-Men, both former and current members.” 

“Rapport?” Logan repeated, a tad mockingly. He could feel Scott grinning beside him. 

“So it takes longer to build with some members than others,” Scott conceded. 

It was Logan’s turn to smile. He knew that Scott was referring to them. “I guess you and Warren have a lot more than rapport,” he went on, the faintest touch of jealousy in his voice. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Scott’s tone was surprisingly sharp.

“Nothin’,” Logan shot back defensively, but his hackles were already raised. “It’s just this morning, seeing you sneaking back to your room like that. I guess I didn’t realize that you and Warren were . . .” _Sleeping together._ Logan couldn’t even bring himself to finish the sentence. “Not that it matters what you two do,” he added after a moment. _I don’t care what you two do_. 

“Wait a minute,” Scott said, placing a hand on Logan's arm and stopping both of them. He’d switched off the flashlight as well since daylight was now entering the cave tunnel. It meant they were near the exit. “You think Warren and I are –” 

“Doesn’t matter what I think,” Logan said, immediately cutting Scott off. He didn’t want to hear the other man say those words either. “It’s your business and if you two wanna keep things under wraps until . . . whenever . . . that’s your business too. I ain’t gonna say anything.” 

Scott was looking at him in complete surprise, which silently irritated Logan. Did the Boy Scout really think he had so little discretion? 

“Why would you even think that?” Scott said at last. 

Logan nearly rolled his eyes. The Boy Scout thought he was clueless _and_ indiscreet. “It’s obvious, Cyke,” he said icily enough to make Bobby Drake proud. He turned away from Scott and began walking to the cave’s other entrance. Daylight was streaming in now and he could see the entrance from where they were. There were rapid footsteps and then Cyclops was beside him again. 

“Obvious?” Scott repeated, sounding more perplexed than ever. 

“Yeah, obvious,” Logan growled back. “Yer spending more and more time together. Ya always seem to be wearing his clothes. He’s apparently had a hard on for you for years. What more is there to say? I gotta give Wings credit for perseverance. Nailed you in the end.” 

They’d reached the exit thanks to Logan’s fast pace and it turned out that he was right. The cave exited onto a cliff face. Of course. 

Beside him, Summers was laughing. 

“Oh, you think this is funny?” Logan said, gesturing at the sheer drop in front of them. 

Summers laughed even harder. “No,” he managed to say at last. “I’m laughing because I thought our communication problems had been solved but apparently I was mistaken.” 

“What?” It was Logan’s turn to be confused. 

“Logan,” Scott said, completely serious now. “I’ve been asking you out for the past two weeks and if it wasn’t for the fact that Alex _swears_ you’re interested, your kind of rejection would’ve crushed the ego of my younger self. Thank god, I’m no longer eighteen.”

“What?” Logan repeated dumbfounded. _What the hell was Scott talking about?_

“Heads up,” Cyclops said as Logan heard the familiar whir of the Blackbird. Sure enough, he turned around to see Scott’s baby hovering level with the cave entrance, the back hatch opened with Psylocke waiting for them to board. 

“Let’s go home, Wolverine.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr on July 11, 2014.

“Interesting walk?” Psylocke said to Scott when Scott took the pilot’s seat in the Blackbird. 

Unless he was incapacitated, Scott would always be in the pilot’s seat and Hank had graciously moved to the back of the jet to have a chat with Raymond. Logan was in his usual place right behind Scott. 

“The scenery was lovely,” Scott answered. 

“It must have been,” Betsy smirked, “to provoke that kind of conversation.” 

Scott glanced at his co-pilot. 

Betsy shrugged, but she was still grinning. “Wolverine’s been very loud since you two boarded,” she explained.

Since Logan had been as silent as a statue since they boarded, Scott interpreted her statement to mean very loud _psychically_. Oh god, it meant that Betsy probably knew what had happened between them and who knows what sort of jumbled thoughts Logan was projecting right now. 

“Wolverine,” Scott said loudly over his shoulder. “You’re broadcasting.” 

There was a grunt followed by a disgruntled voice. “Sorry, Psylocke.” 

Scott raised an eyebrow but kept his gaze straight ahead. Logan really was out of sorts if he was _apologizing_.

Psylocke looked over her shoulder at Logan. That grin seemed to be plastered on her face. “No problem, Wolverine,” she said sweetly. “I wouldn’t have guessed you had such an . . . _active_ . . . imagination.” 

Logan’s response was another grunt bordering on a growl. 

Psylocke directed a mental thought at Scott. “You’re going to have your hands full with that one, but the sex will probably be amazing.” 

Scott had never been more thankful for his years and years of physical and mental control. “I wouldn’t be in this mess,” he thought back to her, “if it wasn’t for you and Warren. Have _you_ solved that problem yet?”

“I wouldn’t necessarily call it a ‘problem,’” Betsy mentally hedged. “And if we’re playing the blame game here,” she added. “I’m a distant second to Angel.” 

“You’re _evading_ , Betsy,” Scott shot back, but there was humor in his mental voice. 

Betsy huffed and her exasperation and fondness rolled through Scott’s mind in gentle waves. “How about this, Cyclops?” she suggested. “I’ll take care of my love life and you take care of yours?” 

“Sounds like a plan.” 

The connection between them remained, a low-level pleasant buzz that spoke of familiarity after months and months of working together to restore Scott’s memories. 

“You have a very sexy mind, Scott,” Betsy said after a while. 

“Betsy,” Scott warned. He felt the tingle of her mental laugh. 

“Relax, Cyclops,” Betsy said. “I know you’re unavailable, even if _he_ doesn’t know it yet.”

* * * * *

When they returned to Westchester, Hank brought Raymond to the medical bay for a standard examination. Scott told Raymond that he would check on him later. He knew that he’d have to get in touch with the Bureau of Mutant Affairs first. He quickly changed back into civilian clothes and was on his way to the Professor’s study (technically, it was _his_ study now) when he was accosted by Wolverine in the sleek hallway of the X-Men’s sublevels.

“Whaddya mean you’ve been asking me out for two weeks?” Logan growled, pushing Scott against a wall and pinning him there. He was still in his uniform. 

“Christ, Logan,” Scott said, but he made no move to resist or get away. Had Logan really been stewing over his words since Colorado? “This really isn’t the time.”

Logan leaned in further, a hair’s breath away from kissing him. “Summers,” Logan said threateningly. “You’ve been driving me crazy . . . for _months_.” God, he sounded pissed. 

Scott’s grin must’ve looked infuriatingly smug. “My ego is happy to hear that,” he replied. 

It was the last straw. Before Scott could say anything else that would have Logan tearing down the walls, the other man kissed him. He made a muffled sound of surprise, but didn’t hesitate. Wolverine kissed like a whirlwind and Scott was swept into that kiss, pinned against the wall by the weight of the other man’s body, his roving hands and that demanding tongue. Scott adjusted because that’s what he did, his own hands coming to rest on Logan’s hips as he brought their lower bodies into alignment, surprisingly enjoying the feel of the stubble burn on his face. Logan immediately ground into him and Scott was hard pressed not to return the action, the heat and hardness of the other man’s body turning him on. He didn’t have any time to think about what to do next because a loud cough had Logan turning in the direction of the interruption, the claws of his right hand already bared in irritation. Whoever had interrupted them was in serious trouble. 

It was Warren. 

Angel was desperately trying to keep a straight face, the slight flutter of his wings his only giveaway as he folded them smoothly onto his back, hands clasped behind him. He gave Scott an inquiring look. 

“Sorry,” Warren said, not sounding the least bit apologetic. He lost his battle with his amusement and a grin broke loose as Scott heard the faintest growl from Wolverine. “There’s an important call for you upstairs,” Warren addressed the leader of X-Men, “from a Mr. Jessup.”

Nathan Jessup, the Deputy Director of the Bureau of Mutant Affairs. Scott had spoken to him earlier. “Thank you,” he said in reply, even as his left hand traveled from Wolverine’s hip up Logan’s body until it stopped on the side of Logan’s ribcage in an effort to placate the other man. The claws had not retracted . . . yet. “Tell Mr. Jessup that I’ll be there shortly.” 

Warren nodded, still grinning. He lingered a while longer, forcing Scott to say, “Is there something else?” 

Angel shook his head. “See you upstairs, Scottie,” he said. “You too, Logan,” he added, finally acknowledging the other man before he left. 

There was a faint ‘snikt’ as Logan retracted the claws. He was still leaning over Scott – protectively? Possessively? Scott wasn’t entirely sure – and his proximity made Scott feel a little heady. 

“I have to take that call,” he told Logan seriously. “We’ll continue this later.” 

The ‘this’ part sounded vague to him but the glint in Logan’s eye said that the other man had a _very_ clear idea of what ‘this’ was. Scott dipped under the arm that Logan had placed at the side of his head – the same one that had threatened Warren with its adamantium claws – and Logan didn’t stop him.

“Yer not gettin’ out of this, Cyke,” Logan warned him. 

“I’m not trying to, Wolverine.”

* * * * *

Although it was getting late in the day, Scott still had a number of things to see to, the first of which was Nathan Jessup. Jessup sounded like a hard man (Scott had done a background check and learned that he was old school military, having fought in both the Vietnam and Korean Wars and had a number of commendations and medals) but not an unreasonable one. He was an interesting choice to be the Deputy Director of the new bureau, evidently meant to be the enforcer behind the much more political and diplomatic appointment of the Director herself, Karen Galloway, the former United States Ambassador to the United Nations. Jessup’s military background made it all the more intriguing that he’d contacted the X-Men for this assignment when he could have easily marshaled former military resources to track Raymond down. Scott believed that Jessup was a man that they could work with, but he kept Hank’s warning in mind as he spoke to the retired Colonel.

The two men agreed that it would be best for Raymond to stay at the school for the time being. Jessup would contact Raymond’s parents to let them know that their son was safe and pass that information along to the X-Men. Jessup was also the one to suggest a formal meeting between the two groups before Scott could bring it up. Scott accepted Jessup’s invitation and the meeting was scheduled to be at the Bureau’s main office in two days time. 

Afterwards, Scott had to deal with some parents, some administrators, placating the gardeners (apparently Logan was leaving motorcycle tracks on the lawn again and the head gardener was furious – Scott really would have to speak to Wolverine about that), and checking up on Raymond as promised. Blue proclaimed Raymond to be a little malnourished and dehydrated from his time in the woods but otherwise in good health. Storm had met Raymond by that time as well and she was settling him into the school, had shown him to his new room and introduced him to his roommate, another boy his age whose mutation consisted of amphibious gills along the sides of his neck, fins along his forearms and the back of his calves. The boy’s name was Adam. Raymond was in awe of Adam’s mutation. 

“You can breathe underwater?” he asked. “That’s so cool.” 

Adam nodded proudly. “I can swim really fast too,” he said mischievously. 

“All right, boys,” Storm said, ushering them back into their room. “Time to get ready for dinner. Adam, you can introduce Raymond to the other students later.” 

“Sure thing, Ms. Munroe,” Adam agreed, already taking Raymond into his confidence. 

Scott shook his head at the boys’ antics, glad that Adam had accepted Raymond so easily. They were doing good work in the school, carrying on the Professor’s dream as Charles Xavier would have wanted. It made Scott proud. He thanked Storm for helping with Raymond before heading back to the teachers’ and staff wing of the mansion. He was feeling a little worn out himself and wondered if he could uncharacteristically sneak in a nap before dinner.

The answer quickly proved to be ‘no’ since ambushing was the theme of the day, whether that ambush came in the form of a physical attack or a verbal one. Scott found himself pinned to a hallway for the second time that afternoon, by the same person, albeit in a different part of the mansion. He was laughing gently as he placed his hands on Wolverine’s hips again, mirroring their previous positions. Logan was wearing more familiar attire – rough denim jeans and a black t-shirt – and there was nothing aggressive or dangerous about his body language now, even though he had Scott against the wall. Instead, he seemed relaxed. Scott would even go so far as to call the other man ‘pleased.’ 

“I know you’re a literal man, Logan,” Scott told him. “But even this is a bit much,” he pointed out, referring to the same positions they were in before. 

Logan’s response was non-verbal, leaning in and . . . was he _sniffing_ him, Scott wondered? He was and Scott really should not have been so turned on by the action, but . . . 

His breathing hitched as he asked, “Have you just been hanging around waiting for me?” 

“That would be stalking, Cyclops,” Logan answered, his voice a gravelly whisper in Scott’s ear. 

The other man must’ve known the effect he was having on Scott. There was no doubt his pheromone levels had increased and Logan’s keen senses would pick that up. Logan pulled back briefly as though he meant to look into Scott’s eyes, an impossible task thanks to the dark ruby quartz glasses that he wore, but when Logan leaned in again, Scott knew that it was to kiss him and he met the kiss halfway. 

This felt like the first kiss to him, not something hurried or possessive or born out of frustration. They were equals now and Scott always suspected that there was tenderness within the beast. They stayed that way for several long moments until Scott remembered that they were making out in a hallway and that anyone could walk in on them at any moment. 

“Hey,” he said, fingers tugging at the hem of Logan’s black shirt. “We shouldn’t be doing this here. We’re not teenagers anymore.” 

Logan also pulled back, but kept his left arm braced on the wall beside Scott’s head. His right arm had wrapped itself around Scott’s waist to pull the other man against him. 

“Really, Cyke?” he said, challenging Scott with a look. “’Cos the way you and I have been actin’ we might as well be teenagers.” 

Scott caved under Wolverine’s playfully accusing glare and grinned. “And whose fault is that?” he asked in return. 

“Yours,” Logan shot back. 

Scott laughed at Logan’s response and gently pushed the other man off of him. “Come on, Wolverine,” he said, grabbing hold of Logan’s hand and pulling the other man behind him. “My room’s nearer.”

* * * * *

Neither man was under any illusions about what was going to happen when they finally got behind closed doors, but even Scott was amazed at how quickly everything escalated. He supposed it had been a long time coming (pun intended), but it also made him think that maybe Logan was right – they were behaving like horny teenagers. It was the only explanation he could think of when he found himself flat on his back, legs propped on Logan’s wide shoulders and the other man’s hungry mouth on him, sucking and licking as though Scott were the last meal he was going to ever have. Scott came harder and faster than he thought he would. It had been a _really_ long time for him, not since a meaningless hook-up with a waitress who had worked in the diner next to the garage in the town where Logan had found him. Then he was the one bending over Logan and returning the favor, holding that large cock in one hand as he explored it with lips and tongue. Logan was too far gone for foreplay though, and the deep growl he let out at Scott’s teasing told Scott as much. Scott put old skills back to use (because apparently giving blowjobs was like riding the proverbial bicycle) and gave Logan a far more professional blowjob than the other man had probably anticipated. Logan came hard as well and Scott drank him down, sucking him dry until Wolverine lay boneless and content. Scott released the softening cock and crawled back up Logan’s body, finally propping his head on top of his hands as he rested on Logan’s chest.

“That healing factor of yours,” Scott said as Logan’s hand came to rest on his back. He let the statement hang in the air like a question. 

“No,” Logan answered, instinctively knowing what Scott meant. 

“Really?” Scott said disbelievingly. “What good is a healing factor if it doesn’t do _that_?”

“Smartass,” Logan muttered. He clearly wasn’t about to get into the biology of the whole thing as he pulled Scott back up for a filthy kiss. Scott had never felt so consumed by another person. 

He sat back up when Logan released him and said, “Well, at least it gives us some time.” 

“Time for what?” 

Scott’s response was to get off the bed and Logan was still too sated to stop him. That didn’t prevent him from asking with real annoyance, “Where are you going?” 

“To look for supplies,” Scott answered, heading straight for the bathroom. He could feel Logan’s heated gaze following him. The guy was a total voyeur. Scott filed the information away. It could prove useful in the future. 

“Supplies?” Logan repeated. 

“Something to use for lube, condoms. I’m not riding you bareback.” 

Barebacking may have been off the menu, but it turned out that there wasn’t much else that Scott wouldn’t do. Three rounds of sex and a whole lot of experimentation later, Scott lay on his stomach with Logan beside him, the other man absently tracing patterns on his back. Logan apparently had some kind of fascination with his back. He’d certainly marked it enough.

“I might not be able to sit down tomorrow,” Scott said a little ruefully. 

“If it wasn’t for the healing factor, my ass would be just as sore,” Logan replied. 

“Is that your way of rubbing it in?” 

“I thought it was a compliment.” 

Scott chuckled. Yeah, they really did have to work on their communication. 

“Have you figured it out yet?” he asked. “What’s going on with Warren? I can’t believe you thought we were sleeping together.” 

“It made sense at the time,” Logan said defensively. 

Scott turned his head to face the other man. “I think you saw what you wanted to see,” he said. 

“When the hell did you ask me out?” Logan returned. 

Scott wondered if Logan was purposely evading the topic, but it was also a fair question to ask. “I’ve asked you to go out for drinks at least six times in the past two weeks.”

“Go out for drinks?” Logan sounded completely baffled. “But we drink together all the time.” 

“We drink together _here_ ,” Scott emphasized. “At the school. I thought a change of environment would let you know that I was also interested in changing our relationship.” 

Logan looked thoughtful. Maybe the other man was starting to understand Scott’s reasoning. “Is that it?” he asked after a while. 

“There was that fundraising dinner.” 

“Ya know I hate those things, Slim.”

“Yes, but the point is I could have asked anyone to go with me, but I wanted to go with _you_.” 

“Ya ended up going with Warren.” 

Scott bit back his original reply which would’ve gone something like, ‘And whose fault was that?’ He didn’t want to sound accusing. Instead he said, “Warren turned out to be free and his family is old friends with the hosts of the fundraiser.” 

“That was the night you wore that red bowtie,” Logan said thoughtfully. 

Scott groaned. “Don’t remind me,” he said. “I lost a bet with Warren.” He waited for Logan to ask for an explanation but Logan didn’t. The other man still looked thoughtful. 

“Was the concert a date too?”

Scott grinned. “Now you’re getting it. It was also a chaperoning gig, but I hoped you would come even if we had to listen to Britney Spears. I thought we could do something on our own after bringing the kids back.” Warren had ending up accompanying him that night as well. Scott turned over so that he was lying on his side, mirroring Logan’s position. “Warren’s not interested in me,” he said. “He’s sticking around because he’s hoping to patch things up with Betsy. You know they were together for a long time, right?” 

“I heard,” Logan answered. “How does Psylocke feel about Wings?” 

“She’s still on the fence but I think she’s leaning towards giving him another chance. Warren’s not a bad guy you know, once you get past the initial arrogance and over-confidence.” 

“I’ll have to take your word on that, Cyke.” 

“He’s been asking me to play matchmaker,” Scott said, “which is why I guess you thought we were spending more time together. I’m hopeless at it. I think I’m more of a mediator than a matchmaker.” 

“I thought Betsy had a thing for you too,” Logan grudgingly admitted.

Scott didn’t think that now was the best time to tell Logan that he was actually right. One of the main reasons Betsy was still on the fence was because she’d admitted her interest in him and wanted to see if there was any chance that Scott would return her feelings. Perhaps at another time it might have been possible but Scott’s interests lay firmly somewhere else, and it was gratifying to finally know that the interest was mutual. Turns out that Alex was right about Logan after all. Scott was wondering when the X-Men had morphed into _As the World Turns_ that he almost missed Logan leaning in to kiss him. That was another thing Scott had learned tonight. Logan liked to kiss and he was good at it. When the kiss grew deeper and Logan rolled them over so that he was on top, Scott put his hand on Logan’s chest to stop him. 

“Hey,” he said. “We skipped dinner and I’m actually starving.” 

“Your point, Cyclops?” 

“My point is we need to go downstairs and fend for ourselves.” 

“Ya don’t think that’s gonna look a little suspicious? First we both miss dinner and then we turn up together in the kitchen?” 

“Suspicious?” Scott repeated, laughing again. “Warren caught your little display of public affection downstairs and god only knows what you were projecting to Betsy in the Blackbird. I think it’s safe to say the whole school knows about us now.” 

When Logan didn’t respond, Scott put a soothing hand on the back of Logan’s neck and asked more seriously, “Are you all right with that?” 

This time Logan smiled, soft around the edges and around his eyes. Scott couldn’t recall Logan ever looking that way at anybody – not Marie, not even Jean. 

“I’m more than okay with it, Cyke,” he said. “Saves me the trouble of telling everybody to keep their hands off of you.” 

“Why? Because I’m now the property of Wolverine?” Scott teased. 

“And don’t you forget it.” 

“If you’re going to be a Neanderthal and objectify me like that then you should at least take care of me,” Scott pointed out. “And you can start by taking me downstairs and _feeding_ me, oh Sandwich Guru.” 

Logan shifted so that he was sitting up and Scott followed suit, the other man still comfortably settled between his spread legs. Logan looked ridiculously pleased at Scott’s compliment. His sandwich making skills was a talent Scott had discovered about the other man during the period when Scott’s memories had been lost. He’d learned that Logan could make the most amazing sandwiches from virtually anything he found in the fridge or the pantry, and thus had dubbed him the Sandwich Guru. There was much more to Wolverine than his killer instinct. 

The two men got off the bed and began to dress, picking up their scattered clothes from the floor. 

“Are you always going to be this much of a nagger?” Logan asked as Scott was buttoning a new oxford shirt that he’d pulled out of the closet. The one on the floor was just too rumpled. 

“Please,” Scott said dryly. “You know you love me for it.” 

Logan, who was standing beside him, suddenly put his arm around Scott’s waist and pulled the other man against him. He looked straight into where he knew Scott’s eyes were and said very quietly, “Yeah, Cyke. I do.” 

 

**Fin.**

**Author's Note:**

> The merry mutants belong to Marvel and Fox. No offense is intended, no profit is being made.


End file.
